


Bad Thoughts

by aravenwood



Series: Whumptober 2020 [24]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani and Nicky | Nicolò di Genova are in Love, M/M, Nicky | Nicolo di Genova has an Anxiety Disorder, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Has Anxiety, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Whump, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27268876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aravenwood/pseuds/aravenwood
Summary: Nicky hasn’t slept in three days. He can’t - the little voice in his head won’t shut up long enough for him to even nap on the sofa. Every time there’s a single moment of quiet it’s all he can hear; these negative little thoughts about every single time he’s ever been less than perfect.And in 900 years, that’s a lot of screw ups.Written for the Whumptober 2020 alt prompt "comfort".
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Whumptober 2020 [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947343
Comments: 20
Kudos: 203
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Bad Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So I wanted to write another anxiety!Nicky fic, and this ended up being majorly self-indulgent after a rough and anxiety-fuelled day (curse job interviews!). I also wanted to show that Nicky's anxiety isn't only panic attacks, it's intrusive thoughts and insomnia and feeling that he isn't good enough. Basically I wanted to make his anxiety more like mine.
> 
> Please enjoy!

Nicky hasn’t slept in three days. He can’t - the little voice in his head won’t shut up long enough for him to even nap on the sofa. Every time there’s a single moment of quiet it’s all he can hear; these negative little thoughts about every single time he’s ever been less than perfect.

And in 900 years, that’s a lot of screw ups.

They’re there almost all the time, one or two slipping into his mind as he’s washing his hair or relaxing on the sofa with a book on his knee. Most of the time he can shrug them off, bat them away, and his mind is quiet once more. But they’re all there right now, each scrambling for his attention, and he doesn’t have enough hands to push them all down. They’re loud and intrusive, and he wants nothing more than to curl up under the covers and cry.

But he can’t do that because then Joe will worry. Except that he’s already worried because Nicky has been quiet - quieter than usual, anyway. He’s been keeping close by, an arm almost permanently around his shoulders like he can shield Nicky from any negative feelings. It’s the kind of gesture that’s just so sweet and so Joe that it doesn’t help Nicky’s already fragile emotional state. Every smile, every peck on the cheek or compliment has him choking up a little and holding back tears.

He doesn’t deserve Joe, a fact that his thoughts have no trouble reminding him of. Constantly and without mercy, telling him that he’s too cold for Joe’s warmth; too quiet for a man with a passion for words; too boring for a man who can find enjoyment anywhere. Joe needs a man who isn’t afraid to show how he feels, isn’t afraid of being loud and passionate.

And he needs a man who isn’t broken.

It’s that last word which keeps sticking with him, which lingers in his mind longer than all the others. Broken. Too anxious, too sad, too afraid of every little consequence. He hates that he needs to be reassured, needs to be coached to do something as simple as breathing sometimes. It’s downright embarrassing and he hates it. Hates everything to do with his own stupid brain and its cruel little tics. 

He’s so busy cursing his own mind instead of sleeping that he doesn’t notice that Joe is awake and watching him until a hand takes his own and squeezes. “Alright, habibi?” Joe asks softly.

Nicky nods once, not lifting his eyes from his lap. “Yes, I’m fine. Just...too awake, that’s all.”

He heard a soft hum that tells him Joe doesn’t believe a word he’s said. They’ve known each other for so long that they can read every tell, interpret every hesitation in the other’s voice. Joe doesn’t need to say a word because that single noise has said everything for him.

“My mind will not be quiet. It is loud and....it’s a lot,” Nicky whispers, blushing even though he knows so well that Joe will never judge him, will never mock him or make fun of him for something as serious as this.

And sure enough, the look he receives is kind and thoughtful, Joe’s big brown eyes curled downwards like a puppy that’s just been kicked. “Like before?” he asks in a low, careful voice.

“Yes.”

He’ll never forget the day the thoughts got too much and Joe found him curled up in the rain with his fingers jammed in his ears. He’ll never forget the way Joe wept as they rocked, or how he pulled Nicky’s fingers from his ears and pressed his own palms over them instead. He’ll never forget how the next day, Joe asked him to write down as many of the thoughts as he could process, and how they’d burned the list in a fire in the kitchen sink when he was done.

“Shit,” Joe mumbles. He looks ready to cry, or perhaps ready to scream. But instead he rolls over in bed and pulls open his bedside drawer. He digs through it for a few moments - it’s amazing how much stuff they’ve acquired and never get around to organising or throwing away - and finally emerges clutching two pairs of earphones joined by a splitter. “Will these help?” he asks, already plugging the splitter into his cellphone and scrolling through his playlists. After a full minute of scrolling, he nods to himself and leans over, tucking one of the pairs of headphones into Nicky’s ears.

At first Nicky expects something soft and soothing that will put him to sleep. But instead his ears fill with...is that Queen? It’s a quick, loud song and he can barely hear his own thoughts over the music. Even the bad ones.

He grins and looks at Joe, who’s wearing the other set of earphones and rocking his head back and forth in time with the music while watching Nicky closely. Seeing the grin, he smiles too and wraps his arms around Nicky and pulls him in close, their bodies pressed together in the middle of the bed.

Nicky stretches his head back and kisses Joe on the lips. This isn’t a miracle fix, the thoughts aren’t gone from his mind or his life. But right now, with the music blasting in his ears, he finds that he can actually breathe with the thoughts muffled.

And pressed against Joe, their legs entwined, he can even smile again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
